Steven Moffat's Romeo and Juliet
by CosmiQuorraHolmes
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity; In unfair London, where we lay our scene; From ancient grudge break to new mutiny; Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes; A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life. PS: All content apart from the OC and the plot belong to Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and William Shakespeare.


_**Two households, both alike in dignity,**_

_**In unfair London, where we lay our scene, **_

_**From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, **_

_**Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. **_

_**From forth the fatal loins of these two foes **_

_**A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life.**_

* * *

Sherlock Holmes stood outside his flat on Baker Street, observing everyone and everything. The one man he was looking for, the man he'd believed to be dead for almost three years, was to appear any second now. The dull grey sky carried dull grey clouds that, in turn, dropped dull grey rain onto the dull grey roads of London.

Dull.

He heard a click behind him. A gun pressed against his neck. "Do you point your gun at me, sir?" he asked.

"I do point my gun sir, but I do not point my gun at you, sir," replied the man, now known to Sherlock as Jim Moriarty. "Do you quarrel sir? You know I serve as good a man as you."

"No, better. Say 'better', here comes John. You remember him, surely, sir," he said, smiling at his friend.

"Are you both prepared to fight a man such as little old me?" asked Jim. "Very," Sherlock replied and punched the man in the jaw.

A full-on fight broke out on Baker Street that day, until a slim brown-haired woman ran towards them. "Part, you fools!" she yelled. "Put away your fists and your guns, you know not what you do! Frère (Brother)," she added softly, walking towards Jim, "I try only to keep the peace. Please, stop this."

"Peace? You, who knows fine well what I can do to anyone here, speak of peace? I hate the word, as I hate the law, all Holmes' and, soon, you."

Despite the mystery girl's efforts, another fight took place. But when Sherlock saw her face, full of concern, he wanted this old feud to be over. He wanted something else that even I will not tell you. Nevermind, it's probably obvious to you.

Anyway, this girl didn't give any hints about who she was, apart from the fact she called Jim Moriarty her 'brother'. She was his twin sister, almost identical, well, as identical as two people of the opposite gender could be. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, but with a French accent? What the actual-

_**BANG**_

Blood poured from John's shoulder, the same one that was shot in Afghanistan. The pain was clearly there; on his face, in his movement, and even in the way he screamed as the bullet ripped through his flesh. Sherlock and the mystery woman ran towards him and tried to stop the bleeding. As it calmed, Jim walked off, smiling. His sister hailed a cab, told the driver to get to St. Bart's as fast as he could, and helped Sherlock pull John into it.

"_Docteur_ (Doctor), stay awake, _ça va_ (okay), stay awake," she said, putting pressure on his wound. He groaned and eventually fell asleep, exhausted. She and Sherlock sat in silence, the sleeping man between them, until the woman held out her hand. "I'm Lu," she said.

"Sherlock," he replied. "Thank you, Louise, for-"

"Non (No)! Not Louise, Mr Holmes. If I was named Louise I would have said so. Anyway, your brother -Mycroft, is it?- works in the government, oui?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied.

"Major or minor role?"

"He is the embodiment of the British Government."

At this, Lu laughed. "Oh, Mr Holmes! How could _un détective_ (a detective) be so wrong! You see, your brother works for me. He is merely a spokesman, someone that the common man can trust with making decisions. But _I_ am the one making them. My family is my blessing and my curse." Here she smiled. "I am Lucrezia Rose Moriarty, and I am the Government."

She paid the cabbie and they stepped out of the car. They went through Accident and Emergency, yelling "This man's been shot!" so as to grab somebodies attention.

* * *

Sherlock and Lucrezia refused to leave John's side in the hospital. He stirred every couple of hours, and the visitors sat in silence.

"I will be driven out by my family for being here," Lucrezia said, as the sun rose. "Have you ever seen the people that rent the basement flat, Sherlock?"

"No," he replied. "I thought that it was-"

"Empty? No, my father rents it out in case something happens that could _lower_ his social status. For example: one of his children assists a Holmes or one of their associates. James is his crown jewel, the _preferred_ child." She sighed, her long hair falling in front of her eyes. "Father hated me. So, I ruined him some more; I joined the Government. Moved to Switzerland for a couple dozen peace meetings. Learned French. Tried to stop an old argument."

"What- What happened?" John groaned, opening his eyes. Sherlock walked towards him and sat in the closest chair while Lucrezia stayed where she was, John looking at her confusedly. "Who are you?"

"Lucrezia Moriarty, the woman who tried to stop you getting shot," she replied. "I'm James' sister. Don't worry, I work in Parliament, but then again, that's not exactly a trusting job now, is it? How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," John laughed, and the corners of Sherlock's mouth turned up. "So, shot again huh?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied. "Same shoulder, different circumstances. Ah! Here comes Mrs Hudson. Prepare for tears, everyone."

As he said this, the landlady of 221 Baker Street, entered the room John was being kept in. "Oh John! What happened?"

"My brother happened," Lucrezia said, understanding that Mrs Hudson hadn't seen her, and stood underneath a light.

"This is-" Sherlock started, but the woman cut in.

"Oh, Lu, dear! How lovely to see you!" she said. "How was Switzerland?"

"_Très froid_ (Very cold)," she laughed. "I'll be in the basement flat for about 10 years, I'm guessing that the old furniture hasn't been moved?"

"The only time I've touched them is dusting and the monthly moth spray. But that's not what we're here for, now, is it?" the woman smiled. "How are you, John?"

"I've been better, Mrs Hudson," he replied. "I'm sore, and tired. And, frankly, confused."

"I'd best be off, then," Lu said standing up. "Goodbye!"

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for not posting yesterday, but here you go! This one was more of an introduction to Lucrezia, so if y'all want a case or a big chapter based on Sherlock and Lu kissing for the first time, just say the word. Please review! Love ya!**


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